


Loyalty

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [27]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bigotry & Prejudice, Brief Violence, Bullying, M/M, Slut Shaming, Spiders, THE SPIDERS ARE ANGRY, Vandalism, Virgil Gets Spooky, borderline horror, specifically prejudice against polyamorous people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-22 16:46:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19674061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Logan is in love. Logan is so,sohappy.Unfortunately, not everyone is happyfor him.Part of theLove and Other FairytalesVerse





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teacupfulofbrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupfulofbrains/gifts).



> a [ beast of bears ](https://cryptidz.fandom.com/wiki/Beast_of_Bears) is an Appalachian cryptid (which i have shamelessly co opted as a fae monster here) though it's not exclusive to the Appalachian mountain range

_When Logan first realized he had two simultaneous crushes on his best friends, the first person he went to was, obviously, Thomas._

“ _Well, do you like one better than the other? Like if you had to pick one,” a confused thirteen-year-old Thomas had asked._

_The very idea had Logan’s stomach tied in uncomfortable knots._

“ _Huh,” said Thomas. It was an uncharacteristically noncommittal noise._

_Logan groaned in frustration._

“ _I knew it,” he said, “Of course it’s abnormal, of course I can’t even develop romantic feelings like a regular human-”_

“ _Nope!” said Thomas, “No anti-changeling comments in the room, it’s the law,”_

“ _It’s a stupid law,” snapped Logan._

“ _Well, I think ‘no snacks in the beds’ is a stupid law, we learn to deal with our troubles,”_

_Thomas had put a stop to any further self-deprecating statements with an efficiency that bordered on ruthless, and eventually they found their way to the computer desk in the basement, and from there, the internet._

_When the internet initially yielded only articles with instructions on how to rid oneself of “unfaithful” feelings, Logan had to sit down on the floor and put his head on his knees._

“ _What’s_ wrong _with me?”_

“Nothing’s wrong with you, _” said Thomas, uncharacteristically snappish, “We just- we’re not looking in the right place,”_

“ _What does it even matter?” said Logan dully, “What am I going to do, tell both of them and hope they don’t think I’m disgusting?”_

“ _Patton and Roman wouldn’t think that, they-”_

_Thomas cut off abruptly._

“ _…huh,” he said._

“ _What?”_

_Thomas didn’t answer for a long moment._

“ _I think… I think I have an idea,” he muttered._

_Logan sat up on his knees, watching Thomas delete their previous query - “crush on two people” - and replace it with “relationship with three people.”_

_The results were so different it was almost physically tangible. Examples and testimonials and definitions – there was a Wikipedia article for goodness sake._

“… _huh,” echoed Logan._

“ _That was the problem,” said Thomas, “We were searching like it_ was _a problem,”_

“’ _Polyamorous,’” read Logan, testing the word on his tongue._

_Thomas was practically radiating smugness._

“ _Shut up,” said Logan._

“ _I didn’t say anything,” said Thomas in a sing-song voice._

“ _You are thinking obnoxiously loudly,”_

“ _Look at all these perfectly normal coupl- er, thruples. Oh, and a perfectly normal Urban Dictionary entry, and a-”_

_Logan lunged, tackling Thomas out of the desk chair, and they tumbled to the floor in a tangle of wrestling limbs._

_Logan was laughing with glee though, so the effect was somewhat lost._

* * *

Logan got a text message from Roman at the end of the last period of the day. Or rather, he got a text message some time around noon, and saw it at the end of the last period, because Logan tried not to look at his phone during classes.

All of the town knew that Logan had something to do with the ousting of the Serpent King and the subsequent relative peace, and it had calmed some of the more overt hostility, especially from the younger portions of the population.

But the teachers still seemed to delight in finding any excuse to punish him.

Logan opened the text and set it on the shelf in his locker to read while he moved the textbooks he needed from his arms to his bag.

 **From: Charming  
** **[back parking lot 2day got u smth]**

and then a second text, consisting only of a winking emoji and a string of hearts.

 **To: Charming  
** **[I have my things. I will be there momentarily.]**

As he walked towards the back of the building, he received another text.

 **From: Charming  
** **[who uses ‘momentarily’ in a txt god I love you]**

Logan flushed, clearing his throat. Quick and a little embarrassed, he echoed Roman’s previous line of heart emojis and shoved his phone into his pocket like it might bite him.

He stepped through the rear door of the school – which he technically was not supposed to use, but Logan was a Senior and had long since stopped observing school rules when there was no one actually around to reprimand him – and there was Roman, leaning against Patton’s truck with his head tilted back, watching the sky.

Seeing as Patton couldn’t really _use_ the truck, being on an extended stay in fairyland, Roman had become it’s most frequent operator. He spent his mornings and early afternoons doing farm work for Mr. Waller, and then came to get Logan from school at three o’clock. Sometimes he went back after dropping Logan off at home, but usually they spend the rest of the day together.

Roman grinned when he caught sight of Logan, and Logan’s heart did it’s usual attempt to back flip in his ribs.

“I got you a surprise,”

“There are very few statements that could be more alarming than that, coming from you,” said Logan fondly.

Roman pressed his hand to his chest, scoffing in mock-offense.

“How ungrateful,” he said, before ruining the effect by smiling again, “It’s in the truck bed, go on,”

Logan rolled his eyes, crossing in front of Roman and peering over the side.

A squeal of delight broke the air, and Patton leapt over the side of the truck. Logan startled but caught him fairly easily, Patton’s arms hooked around Logan’s neck and Logan’s hands firmly gripping Patton’s waist.

“Patton!” said Logan, a little stunned but undeniably pleased, and Patton giggled again, bumping their noses.

“Hello, Lo!” he exclaimed, “Didja miss me?”

“Of course, don’t be absurd,” Logan laughed.

“What, no hello for me, L?”

Virgil’s words belied his expression, which was soft and shining with affection as he reached out his hand and laid it on Logan’s face. Logan leaned into it, unable to school his mouth into anything other than a wide and hopelessly besotted smile. Roman came up behind him then, placing his arms around Logan’s waist and tucking Logan’s head under his chin.

“Do you like your surprise?”

“Very much so,” sighed Logan, unable to come up with anything witty to say.

“We got the days confused,” said Patton, “Didn’t realize you were at school. But we got to surprise you, so I think it worked out,”

Logan hummed in response – he was beginning feel slightly floaty, as he often did when he had all three of his partners so close. Patton giggled, skimming his fingertips across the side of Logan’s face.

The soft feeling evaporated, however, when Virgil’s hand on the side of Logan’s neck went rigid with tension.

Logan looked up, but Virgil wasn’t looking at him – instead he was staring intently in the direction of the school, ethereal and not a bit unsettling. Logan followed the line of his gaze.

Standing frozen, with a slightly startled but otherwise unreadable expression, was Sadie Wagner. She looked like she’d just come around the corner.

Virgil was as still as an iced-over pond, and Sadie stayed perfectly still for another second, then two, and then booked it back around the corner like she had a church grim at her heels

Logan’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. Sadie was a long-accustom nuisance, but she’d been… not _kind_ , but indifferent, mostly, since last spring’s fiasco. Aside from the occasional dirty look or comparatively feeble jab as he passed her in the halls, she’d been mostly absent from his thoughts.

But this was a particularly… _fragile_ part of Logan. And she’d seen it, and it was… unsettling.

Roman didn’t seem to share his trepidation.

“I’ve never seen Wagner move so fast,” he said, amused, “Do you think there’s a sale at the Walmart on ugly costume jewelry?”

Patton gave Roman a reprimanding look, but it was halfhearted at best.

“Alright, in we get,” said Roman, “There’s a picnic basket with our names on it. Some literally,”

Patton snickered and Logan rolled his eyes. Roman was entirely too fond of purchasing loganberry-flavored jams, and even Virgil was biting the corner of his mouth to hide his amusement.

By the time they made it to their clearing, Logan had forgotten about Sadie entirely.

* * *

It was… strange, to go back to being mostly alone at school.

He didn’t share his lunch period with Thomas, or any of Thomas’s friends, for that matter, who might have invited him to join them. It wasn’t bad per se, but different, certainly. He missed his partners, but he would see Roman in a couple hours, and he was near-constantly missing Patton and Virgil anyway.

The thought left a curl of bitterness in his stomach.

He’d only been sitting for a few minutes when something clattered to the table in front of him and Logan jumped.

Sadie sat in the seat across from him, inspecting him like a slide under a microscope. Logan scowled.

“What?”

Sadie’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you going to speak so I can end this conversation as soon as possible, or are you merely going to stare at me for the duration of the lunch period?”

Sadie hummed, and then she shrugged.

“I give up,” she said.

“Somehow I doubt I am that lucky,” muttered Logan.

“No, really, I can’t figure it out. Me and Robbie have been trying for weeks,”

“Figure out _what?”_ said Logan, taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Who’s fucking who,”

Logan choked.

Water went up his nose, and he hacked for several seconds. Sadie rolled her eyes.

“What the _fuck,_ Sadie!” sputtered Logan.

“Come on, it’s not like you’re _shy,_ Sanders,”

“That could not possibly be any _less_ of your business!”

“See, everybody knew about your weird love triangle,” Sadie continued like Logan hadn’t even spoken, “But I can’t figure out who actually ended up pairing off. I’d think you and Gage, and then Waller fucked off into the woods with the Good Neighbors to sing to the birds like a Disney princess, but then every time he comes in town you’re all over him,”

“We didn’t _pair off_ , we-”

Logan furiously stabbed a grape tomato with his fork.

“We are in a polyfidelitous relationship,” he said firmly, “And I _know_ you know that, everyone does. You are being deliberately unpleasant,”

Sadie scoffed.

“So you really did it? You really roped them into your weird threesome fantasy?”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Logan snarled. Sadie rolled her eyes.

“I’m just telling you that you that you need to get a handle on your skeezy sex hang-ups-”

“ _What on earth_ could possibly have lead you to believe I would find your input on this matter – which is, again, _none of your business_ – in any way valuable or welcome?”

Sadie shrugged.

“Sometimes it’s like you’re not even _trying_ to be a person, I swear,”

It was an old insult, one Logan should be used to by now.

He flinched anyway.

“Look,” she said, “You can be a total slut if you _want_ , I guess, but you _do_ know you’re gonna have to make up your mind eventually, right? What are you gonna do, get _married?”_

Logan didn’t respond, glaring. He wanted to say yes. He knew he _couldn’t –_ it wasn’t true, or even possible, legally.

Sadie shrugged again, but her smile was wide and petty.

“Thought so,” she said, “Maybe you can just eenie-meenie it, since you’re obviously not that picky who you spread your legs for,”

Logan made a guttural noise, and Sadie actually went a little pale, and it was about then that movement in the window became impossible to ignore.

One and three and then several dozen and then an entire cloud of stink bugs crawled in through the gap, clamoring over each other into the cafeteria and taking flight. Sadie shrieked, and the swarm started moving toward her, buzzing loudly, and she leapt from the chair and took off at a sprint.

Logan’s shoulders had climbed up to his ears, which were flushing red with the feeling of the whole cafeteria’s eyes on him as Sadie fled the room with the insects on her heels. Logan didn’t really know how to call them off – he wasn’t entirely sure he would if he _did._

Logan grabbed his bag, hurrying out the side door, trying – and _failing –_ to ignore the staring.

He wasn’t hungry anymore anyway.

* * *

Logan tried not to think about it. Really.

And mostly, he succeeded, especially when he was with other people and could distract himself with conversation.

But when he was alone, at lunch in the cafeteria or at night with Thomas asleep on the other side of their room, it was nearly impossible to block out the things Sadie had said.

_You’re gonna have to make up your mind eventually._

It was stupid. Sadie was _wrong_. No, there was nothing Logan personally could do to make polyamorous relationships valid in the eyes of the law, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t valid at _all_.

But the longer her words swirled in his head, the worse Logan’s anxiety became.

After his curse had been put in place, Logan had decided not to pursue anything more than friendship with Roman or Patton, because what was the point? Any happiness he attained was temporary – why would he try to make the end result _worse?_

It had been obvious Patton and Roman loved one another. Yes, sometimes Logan would catch them looking at him the same way they looked at each other, but it was easy – well, not _easy_ , but. He could ignore it. He’d thought he _would_ ignore it, forever, and then Patton and Roman would outgrow it and be together and they’d argue about who got Logan as a best man and Logan. Logan would just have to deal with it.

And then Virgil had woken, and the situation had spiraled and escalated so quickly, and Logan had come out the other side with the knowledge that all three of them wanted the exact same thing Logan did. He could no more have declined entering the relationship than he could have lied about wanting to be part of it in the first place.

It was hard to simply… ignore the years of conditioning he’d given himself. Logan sometimes found himself looking at one of his partners pensively, wishing he could kiss them, without remembering that he probably _could_ , with very little complaint. Or conversely, looking away, like he’d be caught and reprimanded if someone saw him staring.

It wasn’t quite so bad with Virgil, but there was a whole host of other issues there. Namely, that Logan couldn’t fathom what Virgil saw in him. Of course Logan had wistfully daydreamed about the prince in the casket, the same as Roman and Patton, but he was alone in that he’d not once thought they could _actually_ wake him.

And after he’d heard vague whispers of the Serpent Kings dead tyrant brother and inferred they were the same person, he’d – wrongfully, obviously – assumed Virgil to be of similar stock. He’d been blatantly hostile in their first meeting, no matter that his inability to lie had eventually given his affectionate feelings away.

Virgil had taken Logan’s admittance of this with a shrug and an unbothered expression. He seemed genuinely unconcerned.

“Not trusting random fae you don’t know is just good sense, Logan, even if you are one,” he said, “I wasn’t exactly friendly that day either,”

“But you being in the casket – I never believed we could get you out,” said Logan.

Virgil’s eyes focused somewhere to the left of Logan’s face. He hummed, fiddling with a lock of Logan’s hair.

“Neither did I,” he said softly.

Logan jerked a little, startled.

“Roman’s Night-self only visited me the once, and I didn’t even realize it was him. As far as I knew, Grettie never found a way to break the curse and none of you knew who she even was,”

Virgil shrugged.

“I hoped,” he said, “But I wasn’t actually expecting a miracle. Why would I be upset with you for agreeing with me?”

And he seemed to think that was the end of the conversation. It didn’t do much to assuage Logan’s guilt for being - faithless, or disloyal, even, but it did make him disinclined to bring it up again.

So Logan kept his mouth shut. Because his insecurities were baseless, of course. And they were _happy;_ there was no reason for Logan to ruin it with his inescapable, lingering sense that he was somehow… _intruding_ on a relationship that he was an _established part of_. It was nonsensical.

And even more baseless were the accusations Sadie had made about his… _salacious_ _intentions_ , or his perceived promiscuity, because it was _Sadie Wagner_ for goodness sake. It was stupid, frankly, to be so bothered by anything she said,

 _Would be_ stupid to be bothered. Because he wasn’t. The fact that he had no intentions of trying to say so out loud was entirely irrelevant.

Logan was jerked back to the present by the sensation of Roman pressing a warm kiss to the side of Logan’s neck, running his thumb back and forth on Logan’s stomach where they were spooning.

“You okay, Specs?” he said quietly, “I feel like you’re a million miles away,”

Patton shuffled up Virgil’s bed, tilting his head up from it’s resting position on Logan’s chest, and Virgil behind Patton also looked at Logan expectantly. Logan felt his ears warm a little under all their attention.

“I am right here, clearly. We are touching, Roman,”

Roman gave an exasperated smile and huffed against Logan’s neck; Logan shivered, and Roman’s hand stilled on Logan’s abdomen and his smile widened a bit.

“We are, in fact, touching,” he said, kissing Logan’s neck again, a little slower. Patton giggled when another shudder went through Logan, and Logan was beginning to feel distinctly flushed.

“Can I do that again?” murmured Roman.

“You already did,” ribbed Logan. Roman didn’t move or speak again, waiting patiently.

“I-” Logan cleared his throat, “Yes, Roman, you can,”

And then Roman _did_ , as well as drag his fingertips across Logan’s clothed belly, and Logan’s own hand squeezed around Patton’s waist in reflex.

Roman paused again.

“No?”

“ _Yes_ , very much yes,” said Logan. Patton scooted higher again and when Logan glanced down at him his cheeks were rosy, his freckles like flecks of gold leaf against the bright pink.

“Me too?” he said, and Logan barely nodded before Patton leaned in to kiss his collarbone as well.

And then Virgil pressed their foreheads together, nudging in a silent but obvious question. Logan kissed him first, and it was so – so nice, impossibly nice, soft and warm and shining and Logan felt like his heart was trying to do a gymnastic routine in his chest.

But then Roman’s mouth left his neck, and he grazed his teeth against Logan’s ear. It startled him, and he moaned before he could quite contain it.

The sound seemed exceedingly loud, and also somehow like a physical weight, like it had left Logan’s mouth and then parked itself directly on top of him.

_Obviously not that picky-_

Logan had frozen, his heart hammering in an extraordinarily unpleasant way, and it took several moments for him to realize that Roman had sat up to look down at him and Patton and Virgil had both retreated several inches across the bed.

“Logan?” said Patton, clearly distressed

“I-”

Logan couldn’t seem to get his mouth to form words.

“Did we hurt you?” said Roman, and Logan shook his head “no” instantly.

“What’s wrong, L?” said Virgil, not a demand, but his voice definitely firmer than Patton’s or Roman’s.

 _Me. This. Not this, but me doing this, I don’t_ know-

He felt – he didn’t know how he felt, sort of uncomfortable and maybe embarrassed and- and- _illicit_ , like he’d done something wrong or sordid, which was _stupid_ , he was being _stupid._

“Logan, babe, please talk to us,” said Roman, a note of desperation cutting through the panic stuttering through Logan’s chest.

“I am-”

Logan pressed his forehead into the pillow.

“I can compose myself,”

“Well, if _that_ ’s not avoiding the question I don’t know what is,” said Patton without hesitating. He didn’t quite reach for him, but he did lay his hand between them, palm up. An offering.

Logan took it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for.

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Virgil steadily, “You don’t have to be ashamed of getting overwhelmed, Logan, we did kind of jump you,”

_Ashamed._

That was it. That was the feeling – it was _shame_. Not the kind Virgil thought, but yes. Shame.

Logan’s eyes stung.

“I don’t- I would rather not- kiss, right now,”

“Then we won’t,” said Patton definitively.

“Do you want to get up?” said Roman.

 _Not remotely, please come back, I’m miserable and I want your arm around me again_ please-

“No,” Logan settled on, “I would- could we- like before?”

Slowly, Roman laid back down and settled an arm around Logan, and Patton shuffled forward until he was cuddled close to Logan’s front again. Virgil moved a little further up than he’d been, and reached across Patton to take Logan’s hand.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Logan, “This is- yes,”

It took several moments for him to somewhat relax, and then a few minutes to do so completely.

The shame didn’t quite abate, but Logan did shove it as far down as he could manage. He focused on them, his partners, the _here_ and _now_ and _this_ and hoped desperately his strange mood would subside without another fiasco like this one and he would soon be able to forget about his conversation with Sadie entirely.

Logan really ought to know better by now.

* * *

Sometimes, Roman went to fairyland without Logan.

Two weeks after Logan’s… ominous retreat from their intimate moment, they’d been lounging on the huge lawn of Patton’s house, and Virgil had been lamenting that a solitary Beast of Bears had been skirting around the edges of the territory and mauling hikers, and that he was going to have to organize an actual hunt to go after it. He was clearly not looking forward to it.

Roman asked to go with them.

Well. _Asking_ was probably a generous term for it.

“You know, I’m not actually made of porcelain,” said Roman, a little snappish.

“I didn’t say you were,” said Virgil, his voice carefully even, “But a _normal_ bear could maul you in one hit, this is-”

“I assure you I’ve killed far more intimidating things than a Beast of Bears,” said Roman, equally level, but his hands were just barely shaking.

“I _know_ , Roman, you’re misunderstanding me-”

“Just because I’m human doesn’t make me _incompetent_ -”

Patton was worrying his lip between his teeth, and he looked like he wanted to reach out for the two of them (almost amusingly, Roman was settled firmly between Virgil’s legs with his back to Virgil’s chest, even as they were arguing).

But instead, Patton shuffled closer to Logan, wrapping one of his hands around Logan’s arm.

Virgil sighed in clear frustration.

“I don’t think you’re incompetent,” said Virgil.

“Then can you explain why you think I’m not capable of doing something I’ve _already done_ dozens of times?”

“I don’t think you _can’t,_ I’m saying you don’t _have to_ ,” said Virgil.

Roman fell silent.

“There’s no test,” said Virgil, his voice just barely cracking, “No trial, no point to make. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, ever again,”

Roman gave a tremulous smile, and then seemed to remember he was facing away from Virgil and turned so they could see each other.

“I know,” he said, “I’m not going because I think I have to. I’m _going_ -”

He kissed Virgil’s cheek.

“-Because my very-important-to-me boyfriend is going, and I don’t quite trust anybody else with a knife at his back,”

Virgil processed that for a moment, and then his cheeks flushed bright, burning scarlet.

“Oh,” he croaked.

Roman giggled, peppering a few more kisses along Virgil’s face, and that had been that.

Roman dropped Logan off at his house Wednesday evening, kissed him goodbye sweetly, and promised he’d be back by Saturday at the latest.

“Do you want a pelt?” he’d joke.

“In the vernacular, ‘ew, gross,’” said Logan. Roman had laughed and Logan had gone inside.

When the door opened, Thomas called from the kitchen, and Logan was immediately on guard.

“Uh, Berry, we might have a situation,”

“What did you do?” demanded Logan.

Their parents had gone to a teaching convention for the weekend and wouldn’t be back until Saturday evening. They’d had a grand total of three rules.

One: No parties. Easy, seeing as neither Thomas nor Logan was much fond of hosting social gatherings.

Two, for Logan specifically: No significant others spending the night. Also easy, seeing as all three of them were no longer in town.

And three: _don’t burn down the house._

Logan had assumed Thomas would understand the implicit “Thomas specifically is not allowed to touch the stove at all,” but it seemed he was mistaken.

“Okay, so,” said Thomas, his hands on his hips as he eyed the ominously smoking pot on the stove, “The mac & cheese recipe said to take it off the heat, right? So I turned off the burner. And, uh, turns out, burners take a hot minute to actually… not be hot,”

The house did not burn down, fortunately. They ordered pizza after discarding the burnt macaroni and filling the blackened pot with water and vinegar in the hopes of salvaging it from total ruin.

They ended up running late the next morning because they’d stayed up watching movies until an unreasonable hour, and woke up to Corbin banging on the front door shouting about them “getting their asses in gear before he left them to walk to school.”

Logan darted through the school hallways as quickly as he could – he hated being late, but he had less than ten minutes to make it to his locker and then his first period.

But just as he was about to turn into the hallway his locker was in, someone slammed into his side.

Logan steadied himself against the wall, turning to glare and then startling when he saw Kai, who looked – he almost looked _panicked_.

“Hey, Sanders,” he said, and then he _smiled_ , which was very out of character. Kai could be a little… grumpy.

“You wanna ditch school and get drunk?” he said without preamble.

“Excuse me?” said Logan skeptically.

“Do you. Want. To ditch school. And drink,” Kai said slowly, like he was talking to someone very stupid.

“I _heard_ you, I was expressing incredulity,” said Logan, “And no, not particularly. Also you’re not supposed to drink,”

“Aw, come on, don’t be a chickenshit,” said Kai, “Come on, my cars park right out front-”

Kai grabbed Logan’s wrist, tugging him back towards the school entrance.

“I am not going to be truant, Kai,” said Logan, pulling his wrist free as gently as he could manage while still being firm, “You know I can’t get away with as much as other students. And you’re going to make me late,”

“Oh my god, would you just-”

Kai grabbed at Logan’s wrist again but Logan avoided him, and that panic flashed across Kai’s face again. He glanced behind Logan, down the hall.

Logan suddenly felt nauseous.

“Kai,” he said slowly, “Are you… attempting to hide something from me?”

“No,” Kai said instantly, obviously lying.

Logan didn’t give him a chance to continue before he turned on his heel and marched down the hall.

“Jesus Christ, Logan, why do you have to-”

There was a crowd gathered in the middle of the hall and Logan could no longer hear Kai as he pushed through it. Some people saw him and moved, some winced, and a few gave slow and vicious grins.

Logan came out the other side, his stomach in knots and his heart in his throat as he took in the state of his locker.

In all caps, graffiti-ed in dripping bright orange spray paint that stood stark against the blue of the lockers, was just one word.

_S L U T_

Well. That would explain why Kai was trying to get Logan to ditch school.

Logan continued to watch his locker, like it might transform into something else or disappear if he inspected it long enough. Some people were snickering around him, but he supposed it was slightly comforting that just as many looked deeply uncomfortable, and a few outright horrified.

Someone shoved through the crowd, and Corbin swore as soon as he broke through. Sloane was close as his heels, red in the face like he’d been running for a significant amount of time.

“Come on, I’m taking you home,” said Corbin.

“I can not be truant,” said Logan. His own voice sounded like it was coming down a long tunnel.

“I wasn’t asking,” said Corbin.

Thomas came through next, equally as red as Sloane, but his seemed to be at least partly out of fury. Someone close to him – Katie Congrove – snickered and Thomas glared so viciously she put her hands up in a placating gesture.

“Come on, Logan,” Corbin repeated, grabbing Logan gently but firmly around Logan’s forearm.

“Hey, Hudkins, are you and your boyfriend tryna join Sanders’ harem now?” someone called from the crowd.

“Shut the hell up, Josh!” spat Corbin.

“Or what?” Josh Malone replied, stepping out of the throng of people and pointedly leaning over Corbin much shorter frame.

“O-kay,” said Sloane, carefully moving between the two of them, “We’re just gonna go now-”

“I will get in trouble if I leave,” said Logan, “It’s-”

He struggled for several moments, trying to get his mouth to work around something, _anything_ to dismiss the way his eyes were stinging.

“-Paint. Spray paint. Hardly a physical hazard,” he forced out.

He tried to move towards the locker, his limbs moving like marionette with an incompetent operator, but Thomas was already stepping in the way and shaking his head.

“We’re going home, Berry,” he said softly.

There was only ten days age difference between Thomas and Logan – hardly enough for most people to genuinely consider Thomas his older brother. Logan was better at some things, Thomas others; they were evenly matched, generally speaking.

But at this moment, Thomas _was_ his big brother, implicitly and without contest, and Logan’s vision swam with tears that he barely managed to keep from spilling over.

“Okay,” he said in a small, shaking voice.

“What is going on here?”

“Well, shit,” said Sloane smartly.

The crowd parted for Principal Marks, who had his arm crossed and was glaring at them like he thought they were up to absolutely no good.

Which is to say, exactly how he always looked at Logan.

“Detention, Mr. McLaughlin,” he said, “For your profanity,”

“Oh no,” said Sloane, smiling awkwardly, “Wow, I’ve learned my lesson, so why don’t we all just move along now-”

“I asked you a _question_ , what is going on here?”

“Oh, don’t be fucking stupid!” snapped Kai, who had finally jammed his way through the crowd of taller people, “Someone wrote _bullshit_ on Logan’s locker, that’s what’s going on!”

“And you will be joining Mr. McLaughlin in detention, I see,”

Mr. Marks looked at the locker, narrowing his eyes.

“Well,” he said, “Hardly anything to stare at. Get to class, please, move along,”

“You’re not even gonna _try_ and ask who did it?” demanded Corbin.

“Well, do you know who did it, Mr. Hudkins?”

“No, but that’s not my _job_ ,”

“Mr. Sanders would you please open your locker for me?”

Logan hunched in further, but he shuffled past Thomas and spun the dial until the door came free, revealing his things inside, exactly as he’d left them.

“There, see,” said Mr. Marks, “None of your belongings have been damaged. It was just a harmless prank. There’s no reason to kick up such a fuss,”

 _“Harmless_ _PRANK_ _?”_

“ _Kick up a FUSS?”_

Logan had suspected at least someone was going to yell as soon as he heard Mr. Marks speak, and he was correct.

He had not, however, expected Kai to march forward, glaring, and kick the principal in the shin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i said it was two parts but its actually three very sorry if you were hoping to see Sadie Wagner and Jimmy Marks get decked in this part

The four of them – missing Corbin – sat outside the hall of the principal’s office. Logan had not felt quite so miserable in a long time.

The altercation had escalated very quickly after Kai kicked Mr. Marks. Josh Malone had taken a swing at Corbin, Corbin had retaliated, Sloane had tried to break them apart, and then the hallway had devolved into chaos.

Of course, Josh Malone was not here. Corbin had ‘clearly’ instigated the fight, according to Mr. Marks and the carefully selected handful of students present he’d asked for their opinion.

Kai, now sitting directly across from Logan, had gone in first, and his scowl hadn’t budged since he’d come out. Logan was twitching with the desire to question him.

Sloane was nervously tapping his fingers together next to Kai, worrying his lip between his teeth. Thomas wore a carefully blank expression that made Logan feel uncomfortably like he was looking in a mirror.

“I-” Logan started, but his voice broke on the syllable. Thomas leaned closer, pressing their arms together, and Sloane looked up, but Kai didn’t even move.

“I apologize,” Logan tried again, “For getting all of you in trouble,”

Kai rolled his eyes so hard Logan feared for the structurally integrity of his optic nerve.

“Logan,” he said, “Shut up,”

“Don’t tell him to shut up,” Sloane admonished gently.

“I’m in trouble because I kicked a teacher, and he’s apologizing like that’s somehow his fault,” said Kai, “That warrants a ‘shut up,’”

“Why _did_ you kick him?” Logan blurted before he could stop himself.

Kai stared at him like Logan had asked Kai to spell his own name for him.

“Are you being stupid to be funny, or-?”

“Kai,” said Thomas wearily.

Kai huffed.

“I kicked him because he was being a dick, okay?”

“’Being a dick’ is Mr. Marks default setting,” said Logan, bewildered, “And as far as I know this is the first time you’ve assaulted him,”

“I kicked him in the _ankle,_ that’s hardly assault,” said Kai, “And he was bitching about ‘kicking up a fuss’ - figured I show him what that actually looked like,”

Sloane snorted.

“Trust me,” said Kai, “It’s pretty much a miracle that this took seven years. I hate that guy. When I found out he was moving up to the high school with us I egged his house I was so pissed,”

“That was you?” Sloane said curiously.

“But there _was_ no reason to escalate the situation,” pressed Logan.

“Oh my _God_ , don’t make me explain this to you, Logan. He treats you like shit and we all know it,”

“But you don’t even _like me_ ,” blurted Logan.

Kai stared at him blankly.

He bit the inside of his cheek suddenly, and it looked like he’d done it fairly hard.

“Jesus,” he said, his voice a little thick.

Sloane and Thomas were both looking at Logan with equally horrified expressions.

“What?” said Logan defensively.

“You- you really think I don’t like you,” said Kai, sounding uncharacteristically strangled.

Logan didn’t quite know how to respond.

“You can’t fucking lie,” said Kai, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You can’t lie and you think I don’t like you,”

“Um-”

Logan was rescued from having to respond by the door opening, and Corbin exiting with a strangely smug expression. Mr. Marks looked furious, and he pointed to Thomas and Logan.

They sat across from him, and Logan braced himself for the lecture.

“Unfortunately,” said Mr. Marks, “Since your parents are out of town and didn’t leave a landline to call, I’m unable to inform them of your suspension,”

Cell phones worked _within_ the confines of Wickhills, and landlines could make outgoing calls or receive incoming ones – but trying to get a cell tower to bounce of a place that had about as poor a relationship with it’s physical location as it did with the _actual_ _laws of physics_ was nearly impossible.

“We didn’t do anything,” said Thomas instantly.

“You and your friends started a fight on school property,”

“ _Josh_. Started. The fight,” said Thomas. Logan shifted uncomfortably.

Logan tried to recall having ever seen Thomas so angry. He could not seem to do so.

“Mr. Atwell assaulted a faculty member at _your_ instigation, Thomas,”

Thomas just glared.

“So I will be suspending all of you for three days,” Mr. Marks continued, “And I will call your parents to inform them on Sunday, as I believe they should be back by then,”

“And who’s getting suspended for vandalizing Logan’s locker?”

“It is not _Logan’s_ locker, it is school property,” said Mr. Marks, “Nothing of his was damaged, and seeing as there is no way to determine who did it, there is unfortunately nothing I can do,”

He didn’t sound like he found it particularly unfortunate.

“So, what, people say horrible things about my brother, as usual, and you do nothing about it, _as usual?_ ”

“Thomas,” Logan pleaded.

“I can make it a week of suspension, if you prefer,” said Mr. Marks.

“And why is Logan in here anyway?” demanded Thomas, “You said me and Kai started the fight, Corbin and Sloane were in it, but Logan didn’t do anything. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even move,”

“ _Thomas_ ,” said Logan.

“A week of suspension it is,” said Mr. Marks.

“ _I don’t care about the stupid suspension!”_ shouted Thomas.

“Thomas, _please_ ,” begged Logan.

Thomas visibly bit his tongue. He looked utterly furious, but he didn’t speak again.

Mr. Marks waited patiently, almost daring, and then he nodded.

“You can wait in the hall, then. I would like to speak to your brother by himself now,”

Thomas didn’t move for several moments, and when he did stand it looked like it cost him an enormous effort.

He placed one hand on Logan’s shoulder, and Logan tilted his head to press his cheek to it. Thomas went out the door and closed it behind him, so painfully careful that it was clear he’d barely stopped himself from slamming it.

Mr. Marks sighed, eyeing Logan like a frustrating puzzle.

“I know you’re upset,” he said, and Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“But there really is nothing I can do,” said Mr. Marks, “And you must understand that unless your behavior changes, things like this very well may keep happening,”

Logan blood turned cold.

“What do you mean, ‘my behavior?’” said Logan.

Mr. Marks looked both uncomfortable and disapproving.

“You are not exactly being… well, _discreet_ ,”

It was a good thing Logan had no idea how to respond, because he didn’t think he could possibly have said anything around the lump in his throat.

“I’ve known you many years, Logan,” he said, “And I would have thought you had a little more respect for Mr. Gage and Mr. Waller,”

Logan stood up from the chair suddenly, and Mr. Marks reared back.

“Is my suspension effective as of now?” managed Logan, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

“I- yes, but-”

“Goodbye, Mr. Marks,” Logan cut him off, turning on his heel and leaving the room, not even able to react to the fact that the legs of the chair he’d been sitting were being swallowed by the hyacinth sprouting from them.

Thomas looked up and immediately paled at whatever he saw in Logan’s face. Logan couldn’t imagine what his expression must look like.

“I would like to go home,” he said mechanically.

Thomas nodded, and Corbin stood with him.

Logan hesitated.

“I do not want to get you in more trouble,”

“I’m already suspended, and my mom just texted me and said she’s buying me ice cream for it,” said Corbin, “Trust me, I’m good. Let’s get you home,”

Logan didn’t have the strength to argue.

* * *

Logan had headed straight to his bed, climbed into it still clothed, pulled the blankets over his head, and not moved for the rest of the day.

He hadn’t turned the light on, and the room was dimmer now in the late afternoon sun, except for the glow of Thomas’s phone. Thomas, for his part, had sat on the floor next to Logan’s bed and slipped one hand into the blanket nest to hold Logan’s hand. He’d left once and returned with two sandwiches, and then one more time a couple hours later to take the untouched plates away. It didn’t seem to have deterred him from trying to feed Logan anyway.

“What do you want from Pepperoni’s for dinner, Berry?” Thomas said quietly, the first words either of them had spoken since they’d gotten home.

Logan opened his mouth to inform Thomas that he honestly didn’t think he could keep any food down, but what came out of his mouth was something else entirely.

“Do you think I’m a slut?”

He hadn’t meant to ask, and he regretted it instantly. Thomas went perfectly still and silent as the grave.

Logan counted the seconds, and at seven of them Thomas finally moved, releasing Logan’s hand and throwing back the covers.

Logan didn’t look at him, but he could feel Thomas staring. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat that had risen in Mr. Marks office and hadn’t quite abated since.

“ _No_ ,” said Thomas vehemently.

The lump did not shrink. Logan didn’t speak.

“Do you?” Thomas asked, quiet and pained.

Logan curled in on himself, eyes prickling.

“I – Maybe,”

“Berry,” croaked Thomas.

The prickling was a burn now, and Logan bit down on the base of his thumb to contain the sob that wanted to bubble up.

“Hey, _don’t_ ,” said Thomas, fishing around in Logan’s bedside drawer for the chew-able necklace Logan never remembered to wear.

Logan removed his hand from his mouth but he didn’t replace it with the dark blue star Thomas handed him. HE set both on the blanket next to him and stared.

“Okay,” said Thomas, letting out a breath. “I’m gonna ask you a question,”

Logan made a noise of acknowledgment.

“It’s probably gonna tick you off,” said Thomas frankly.

Logan gave him a wary look.

Thomas huffed a breath out of his nose.

“Do you think _Virgil_ is a slut?”

A strange noise… _happened_ , although Logan couldn’t tell if he’d actually made it with his throat, a sort of shrill keen that sounded like resonating glass, and then a loud _crack,_ and then something was itching the back of Logan’s neck.

Shaking, Logan turned.

His head board was bursting with monkshood, so much of it that the roots had split a faint crack in the headboard. He looked back down at Thomas, who hadn’t so much as flinched.

“Okay,” said Thomas, “At least we’re on the same page there,”

“I see your point,” conceded Logan.

“So… where is this coming from?” said Thomas, “I mean, whoever wrote on your locker is a _whole_ piece of garbage, obviously-”

“Sadie,” said Logan.

Thomas’s eyes narrowed.

“Sadie wrote it?” he asked.

Logan nodded.

Thomas’s jaw flexed.

“How do you know?”

Logan looked away.

“Berry,” said Thomas firmly, “Did Sadie say something to you?”

Logan couldn’t bear to look at his brother. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“ _Logan_ ,”

“ _Yes,”_ said Logan, “Yes, okay, she did, she- she accosted me in the lunch room and I-”

His voice cracked, and the tears finally spilled over. He scrubbed furiously at his face.

“And I _know_ I’m being irrational and I know she is mostly incorrect, but there were- some particular phrasings that-”

“What did Sadie say, exactly?”

Logan sniffed, scrubbing his face again.

“That I had… roped Patton and Roman into an illicit sexual fantasy,” he said rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling, “And that our relationship is unsustainable,”

“Berry, you have like, storybook-fairytale levels of true love going on,” said Thomas, “There’s nothing unsustainable about it,”

“But there _is_ ,” said Logan miserably, “It _is_ unsustainable, how are we to proceed? I can’t marry them, Virgil doesn’t even _exist_ legally speaking, and if anybody _does_ get married it will almost certainly be Roman and Patton, because that was what was _supposed_ to happen before I insisted on inserting myself between them-”

“Logan-”

“And even if marriage is something none of them want, it is only a matter of time before they realize I’m an extraneous part of the relationship anyway-”

“Logan, what the _hell_ -”

“I’m asking for far too much and I don’t remotely deserve them but how could I possibly even begin to _choose-_ ”

“ _STOP,”_

Logan’s voice died in his throat.

Thomas’s eyes were shiny, and he dragged one hand down his face.

“Have you told them any of this? These things you’re thinking?” he asked.

“Of course not,” said Logan, “I want them to be happy. Telling them would make them unhappy,”

“Jeezy creezy, Berry,”

Logan swallowed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,”

“ _Berry_ ,”

“Let- let me finish,” said Logan.

Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, waiting.

“I know none of these things are true,” said Logan. Thomas’s expression became baffled.

“But- how are you-”

“Saying them as if they are, when I am literally incapable of speaking a falsehood?” said Logan, “I have no idea. I know they are false. I know my partners love me. I know I am being irrational. I know Sadie Wagner is hardly a moral authority,”

He shrugged helplessly.

“I believe them anyway,” he croaked, “I believe _her_ anyway, believe _all_ the things the other students say about me. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s completely irrational. Surely I have to be insane, to be able to believe two contradictory ideas at the same time?”

“You’re not insane,” said Thomas softly, “That’s just… regular old emotions, to be honest. They’re _not_ rational,”

That startled a laugh out of Logan.

Thomas gave him a sad smile, patting him on the hand.

The silence was broken by a loud knock at the front door. They exchanged wary looks.

“Not Mom and Dad,” said Thomas.

“Maybe Corbin or Sloane? Or Kai,” said Logan.

“Yeah, we haven’t even _gotten_ to what you said to Kai,” said Thomas, standing and moving towards downstairs, “We are definitely talking about that,”

Logan followed him to the front door, and Thomas unlocked it.

On the other side was Elliot, nervously fidgeting with their bracelet. Standing behind them was all three of Logan’s boyfriends, wearing expressions in varying stages of ‘absolutely enraged.’

Thomas sighed.

“I’m pretty sure you’re gonna end up breaking rule number two,” he said conversationally.

* * *

They did not, in fact, end up breaking rule number two, but only on a technicality.

The first thing Roman had done upon arriving at the house (well actually, the second thing, because the first had been to use his sleeve to gently wipe Logan’s tacky face and hold him for nearly a full minute) was call his grandmother.

And while Logan’s parents had not left a landline to call for Mr. _Marks_ , they had left the extension for their hotel room for Ms. Gage, and Logan’s protests about calling them had fallen on deaf ears. Mom and Dad were on their way back, probably arriving some time in the early morning due to their insistence on driving through the night.

And Logan’s boyfriends were not spending the night at the house, because Virgil (who had been almost entirely silent up until that point) had gestured for the phone and politely asked Logan’s parent’s if it would be alright for Logan to stay with _him._

They had asked to speak to Logan.

“Do you want to go with Virgil, honey?” Mom asked quietly, her voice tinny over the receiver.

Logan hesitated.

“There’s no wrong answer, baby,” said Mom, “You’ve had a terrible day. I want you to feel safe, and I know Virgil helps,”

Logan took a deep breath against the lump in his throat and nodded, before remembering his mother couldn’t see him.

“Yes, I would. Like to go,”

Mom hummed in acknowledgment.

“Okay. Can I talk to Virgil again, please?”

Virgil held the phone to his ear, and Mom said something that Logan couldn’t quite make out with the distortion, but whatever it was made a deeply uncomfortable and slightly panicked expression pass over Virgil’s face. He cleared his throat, and his voice came out slightly strangled.

“Of course,” he said, “You have my word,” and the promise rippled through the room and made all of them shudder. Logan was sure his parents had experienced something similar on the other end of the line.

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what his mother had said to Virgil – Virgil didn’t volunteer it, and Logan wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know.

Just as they were about to leave, Ms. Gage stopped them.

She made direct eye contact with Virgil, who didn’t waver.

“We’re gonna decide what to do in the morning,” she said, firm.

Virgil’s jaw worked back and forth, still blank-faced. Roman, however, scowled darkly.

“Understand?” she said pointedly.

A short, tense pause, and then Virgil nodded.

The sun was just setting as they left. Patton had looped one arm around Logan’s, and Virgil held Logan’s other hand. Roman was walking ahead, the line of his shoulders taut with what Logan could only imagine was fury.

They walked a few dozen yards into the trees, and Logan stopped.

“Wait,” he said.

They all three turned instantly.

“Can-”

He sighed.

“Virgil,” he said weakly, “Could you- would it be acceptable to not walk?”

Virgil’s face softened, but he looked a little wary.

“It makes you sick,” he said quietly.

“Only briefly,” said Logan, knowing he was pleading but too miserable to be embarrassed, “I- please. I just… I just want to lay down,”

Virgil looked questioningly between Roman and Patton, both of whom stepped forward and took hold of Virgil without preamble.

Virgil gathered Logan close to his chest, and Logan closed his eyes.

Virgil’s ability to move through shadow did, in fact, make Logan ill; much more than Roman or Patton, presumably because Logan was Seelie where Virgil was decidedly not.

They came up already in Virgil’s room (presumably Virgil did not want to encounter any other fae in all of their heightened emotional states) but Logan only knew from the smell – his vision swam and his knees gave out, but just as they did Virgil was already scooping Logan off the floor and carrying him to the bed.

Virgil held him for several minutes, until the dizziness receded and Logan’s stomach settled. No one had spoken for the duration. Logan felt someone behind him, a head tucked into the crook of his neck. The soft curls brushing his face identified it as Patton. Roman was not in the immediate vicinity.

Logan looked around the room, irrationally anxious. Roman was sitting in the high-backed chair at the desk, facing the bed, his elbows on his knees and his head hung low.

“Roman?” croaked Logan.

Roman let out a shuddering breath. He looked up, and his eyes were rimmed red.

“Why didn’t you call for us?” he said desperately.

Logan’s hand came up automatically to touch his charmed necklace through his shirt.

“I wasn’t in danger,” he said, “That is not the intended use,”

“Intended use my ass,” said Roman, blunt, “You had to know we’d come,”

“I did,” said Logan weakly.

Roman’s focus didn’t waver, but Logan couldn’t maintain the eye contact. He looked out the window, stomach in knots.

“But instead,” said Roman, and he didn’t sound angry, not quite, but Logan flinched anyway, “Elliot was so worried about _you_ that it got Virgil’s attention-”

“-and when I got there they didn’t understand why you weren’t already with me,” Virgil finished.

Logan swallowed.

More silence – they were all waiting for Logan to speak, but he didn’t know what to say.

Patton sniffled, a tiny whimper and Logan felt his heart crumple like discarded paper.

“Patton,” he choked, “Patton, dear, please don’t cry,”

He twisted in Virgil’s arms, clutching at Patton, who gave another short sob. He was mouthing something, but he wasn’t actually speaking, and when Logan looked closer he realized Patton his lips were forming “stop crying” over and over.

Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who’s old habits were dying hard.

“H-how could anybody-” Patton shook his head, looking furious and sorrowed and utterly miserable

“Who would even _do_ something like that?”

Logan _tried_ not to react, tried to hide the tense line his spine had become, was probably putting more effort into his composure at this exact moment than he ever had in his life. He seemed to have fooled Patton but Virgil went so still he resembled a statue of granite.

“Logan,” he said, very quietly, “Do you _know_ who did it?”

“N-”

Dammit.

“You do?” said Patton.

“I-” Logan worked the words over in his mouth, “There is no way to truly determine for sure who vandalized my locker,”

“But you have a pretty good idea, I’m guessing,” said Roman, crossing the room finally to gingerly sit on the edge of the bed, “Judging from the sheer _volume_ of qualifiers you just tossed in that sentence,”

Logan felt shrunken under their eyes, small and embarrassingly feeble. Sadie Wagner was perfectly mortal and perfectly mundane and perfectly, abysmally unpleasant. And here was Logan, practically cowering, terrified to name her like she was some kind of bogeyman.

But really, wasn’t she? Not _her,_ exactly, not really, but everything she represented – every _one_ she represented, every teacher who had looked away when she insulted him, every parent who crossed the street with their children like being a changeling was _catching,_ every classmate who heard her and laughed because they agreed or heard her and said nothing because Logan just wasn’t worth _kicking up a fuss about._

Somehow all these things had become tangled up with Sadie’s mocking voice and ever-present ponytail and ugly jewelry in Logan’s head.

“ _Please_ ,” said Roman, his voice coming out like he’d been punched in the stomach and his hands fluttering up to take Logan’s hands in his, “Please, please just- just tell us,”

Logan hesitated for another moment, and then Roman squeezed his hand and pressed one to his mouth and Logan’s defenses crumbled.

“It was Sadie,” he said quietly, “Most likely, at least, based on the exact phrasing,”

“Exact phrasing?” pressed Virgil, and his voice was not quite inhuman – yet – but it did make the hair on the back of Logan’s neck stand up.

“Plenty of people might want to make me the target of harassment; Sadie is the only who-”

He looked out the window again.

“Sadie is the only one who has said… that… specifically,”

Roman kissed Logan’s hand again.

“To my face, at any rate,” Logan finished lamely.

There was a beat, and the next words out of Roman’s mouth seemed to be a total non-sequitur.

“Your hands are shaking, Specs,” he said, quiet, and achingly sad, a third kiss falling on Logan’s knuckles, this time the other hand, and somehow that- that was just too much.

Logan cleared his throat firmly but it did him no good – his vision was swimming, and he could already feel his eyes spilling over. Patton seemed to notice first, crooning wordlessly into Logan’s neck. Virgil was no longer still – he was shaking, tense, but holding Logan so, so carefully, like he was hyper-aware of his own strength.

Roman – Roman looked absolutely infuriated.

“I’m going to kill her,” he said, dark and cold.

It made Logan flinch, a flashbulb memory of the way Roman’s Night-self had sounded when he’d so effortlessly deceived them, and even though he knew _that_ had been an act, the _violence_ wasn’t.

“Don’t,” croaked Logan.

“I am,”

“ _Don’t_ ,” said Logan, gripping Roman’s hand back probably-too-hard, “I don’t want you to. You don’t want to either, not really. You would regret it after,”

“Somehow I very much doubt that,”

And Logan could actually _see_ it, see the expression flickering between one Roman and the other – day and night, sorrow and rage. He was starting to feel distinctly panicked.

“Virgil,” he said, “Patton, I- _help me_ ,”

Neither of them spoke. Logan wasn’t _too_ surprised on Virgil’s part, but he was startled enough by Patton’s lack of response that he actually stopped crying.

“You can’t possibly be _considering_ this,”

“I told May we would decide in the morning,” said Virgil, though his tone of voice suggested he’d already made the decision, and easily besides.

Logan looked down at Patton, who stayed quiet for several more seconds, before he brushed his knuckles against Logan’s jaw. He didn’t look Logan in the eye.

“I don’t like when people hurt you,” he said softly. It wasn’t an order, direct or otherwise; Logan felt something akin to a static shock on his fingertips anyway.

“I am hardly in danger from orange spray paint,”

“Not what I meant, sweetheart,” said Patton, patient, “You’re crying. You hid from us. You tried to lie; you’re _hurt_ , and I-”

Patton’s voice cracked, and he pressed his forehead to Logan’s cheek.

“I _hate_ it,” he whispered desperately.

“Murder seems a disproportionate response to vandalism, regardless of how much said vandalism distresses me,”

Virgil kissed Logan’s temple; he was still shaking.

“If you asked me to,” he said, “I would burn the building to the ground with everyone who’d ever been cruel to you still inside,”

That was… alarming. And also _really_ should not have made Logan’s heart do a funny little tremble in his chest. Because they were discussing _murder_ , not _Valentine’s gifts._

Logan felt distinctly outnumbered; he ran the conversation through his head, grasping for an opening.

“You said you would decide in the morning,” he reminded them.

“Virgil said that; _I_ didn’t say anything,” said Roman.

“Virgil also can’t be prosecuted because he doesn’t legally exist,” said Logan. He felt like he was regaining much of his composure by now, “You, however, have a very human birth certificate and a very human license and if nothing else a very human and very frightening _grandmother-_ ”

“Yes, okay,” said Roman, cutting him of with the words and then a kiss that was so soft it made Logan’s heart tremble again. “The morning, then,”

It was barely a concession; Logan would take what he could get.

“And regardless of _what_ we end up doing,” said Roman, “You know none of us think that, and neither do our families or our friends. It’s all bullshit,”

“Righ-”

Logan’s voice wheezed out and cut off, like someone had squeezed him around the throat.

Shit.

The room was deathly silent.

“L, you don’t- do you _believe_ what she said?” said Virgil. Logan had never heard him sound quite so small.

Logan tried for several seconds to make his mouth do something – anything.

Shit. Shit shit _shit_.

“Not… all. Of it. Exactly,” said Logan haltingly.

“Please elaborate,” said Roman, who’s previous relaxing had evaporated entirely and landed his expression squarely back in ‘homicidal.’

“Well-”

He decided to start with the inarguable facts – he wasn’t quite sure how to try and explain his own irrationality.

“She mentioned that – well, technically speaking, our… our relationship has no way to. Progress,”

A pause, then-

“I don’t understand, honey,” said Patton.

Logan regretted starting with this, his ears burning.

“She said that- I would have to,” he cleared his throat, “’Make up my mind eventually’ due to our… inability to get. Um. Married,”

He picked at a loose thread on his jeans.

Roman cleared his throat, but it was Virgil who spoke.

“Why wouldn’t we?” he said incredulously.

Logan looked up at him, equally baffled.

“There are four of us,” said Logan slowly.

Virgil didn’t look any less confused.

“I can count,” he deadpanned.

“Four people can’t get married,”

Virgil’s eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“Is this a human thing?” said Virgil.

Logan’s heart stuttered.

“I- yes,” he said, his voice a little faint.

Virgil scowled.

“Well, it’s fucking stupid,”

“Language,” said Patton, void of any real reprimand.

Virgil’s cheeks and neck were flushing with embarrassment but his face and jaw were set.

“We can get married,” he said, “If- if we all want to, I mean. It’s not a problem for fae,”

“… Oh,” said Logan.

“I can’t-”

Virgil huffed.

“I can’t do much about human law,” he muttered, “Idiots, seems like half of them are dumb as dead tree bark sometimes-”

“You like humans,” said Patton, “You think we’re sweet,”

“I’m really not very fond of them as a species at the moment,”

“See?” said Roman, who seemed determined to ignore the fact that all four of them were blushing fiercely, “Full of it. We can get married,”

Logan knew that he could drop it here. He could smile and say he was soothed because he _was_ , at least a little, and they wouldn’t press him and they could all move on.

But, honestly – and for someone who couldn’t lie out loud, Logan was remarkably disinclined to be honest in his own head – Logan was… tired. Tired of hiding his upset, because even as he didn’t want to burden them with it it was even worse to deal with it by himself.

“Sometimes,” he blurted, his voice coming out a touch too loud, “Sometimes I do… _feel…_ deviant, I suppose,”

“‘Deviant?’” said Patton.

“Or- immoral,” said Logan, “Like I- am being… voyeuristic, maybe, or- asking-”

Logan chest felt rather like someone had wound steel wire around it – uncomfortable, too tight and burning slightly.

“Asking for too much,” he said weakly, “ _Wanting_ too much. Wanting… in-inappropriate things,”

Logan had probably never been quite so mortified – he felt like he was going to burst into flame, and there was a brief flare of panic when he wondered if that may actually not be impossible.

Roman made a strange noise across from him, halfway between a grunt of frustration and very exasperated sigh.

“Okay, uh- gimme a second,”

Baffled but unwilling to question him, Logan waited.

Roman coughed several times, and then stared directly at the ceiling before speaking.

“Jesus, okay, um-”

He took a very deep breath and let it out through his nose.

“I- obviously can’t speak for… everyone,” he said thickly, “But it’s-”

He did look at Logan then, and let go of Logan’s hands to instead cup Logan’s jaw with barely-shaking hands.

“You couldn’t- you literally cannot ask or… _want_ too much, from me,” he said, “I-”

He ran one thumb across Logan’s cheek, and it was such an innocent gesture that it made absolutely no sense for it to feel like a trail of fire across Logan’s skin.

“ _Fuck,_ I-” Roman muttered, “Logan, I’d give you anything. _Anything_ you wanted or asked for-”

“Don’t say that,” said Logan, suddenly, because there was something distinctly supernatural buzzing under Logan’s skin at Roman’s words, more than just a thrill or joy. One of the first things children in Wickhills learned was to not make promises to fae, and Roman was coming dangerously close.

Logan didn’t know how he’d react – nobody had ever promised Logan something he wished for quite so desperately.

“And frankly,” said Roman, like Logan hadn’t even spoken, “I’m pretty sure you can’t possibly have thought anything more ‘inappropriate’ than me. I’m very imaginative,”

Patton squeaked, sounding nearly indistinguishable from a dog toy being stepped on.

“ _Roman_ ,” hissed Logan, slightly scandalized and also slightly – well.

Roman smiled wickedly, and kissed him, once, twice, and a third time that lingered and made Logan feel shivery and off-kilter.

Patton let out another high-pitched noise that sounded more like a whine that time.

“Y’all are gonna kill me,” he muttered, almost petulant.

“‘Ah, lovely appearance of death,’” said Roman, leaning over Logan shoulder to kiss Patton just as slowly.

“But… yes,” said Patton when they broke apart, sitting up on his knees to kiss Logan, short and warm and sugar-sweet, “Not too much, sweetheart. Not for me, either,”

“Anything,” Virgil echoed the sentiment softly, his face buried in the crook of Logan’s neck, and Virgil, at least, knew very well what kind of promise he was making.

Logan felt – not perfect, not totally free of the niggling doubt in the back of his mind. But… better. Much better. Good, even, happy and a little weightless and- and-

Impulsively, Logan turned in Virgil’s arms and nudged his face up, kissing him soundly.

Virgil’s hand cupped the back of Logan’s head, and Logan could feel Patton and Roman looking at them like more sparks along his skin, and that was also quite pleasant. Nice. He liked it, very much, and he only felt a little guilty about it. Little enough that it was easily ignored.

He sighed contentedly against Virgil’s mouth, and Virgil made a pleading noise that Logan took full advantage of to deepen the kiss.

Virgil pulled back, but only barely.

“Um-” he said, a little breathless.

They all three turned to him. His blush, which had started receding after he’d finished explaining they could marry if they wanted to, had returned full-force.

“I sort of told your mother I wouldn’t, um,” he coughed slightly, “Take advantage of you. While you were upset. So – just. Just so you know,”

The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched.

“About… that,” Virgil finished awkwardly.

“Well,” said Logan, “I don’t believe kissing can really be considered taking advantage. It is hardly anything we haven’t done before,”

“Uh-”

“And I assure you, my mother had no illusions there would be no kissing when she permitted me to come here. She’s pleasant, not naive,”

Virgil bit his lip, hesitating.

“If it worries you so much, I can kiss Logan instead,” said Roman coyly, and Virgil gave him a deadpan expression.

“I think it was an understood thing that she was asking me to be the responsible one,”

“You’re fae, aren’t you supposed to like loopholes?”

“ _Roman_ -”

Patton was giggling into Logan’s neck, and Roman didn’t look remotely contrite. Virgil’s resolve was clearly wavering.

“We don’t have to, of course,” said Logan, soothing, “But I- I would like to. And you would not be taking advantage. If anything, I… I would be… comforted, actually, I believe,”

Virgil groaned, frustrated, and Logan’s mouth flickered into a brief, amused smile again.

“That’s not even a little fair,” Virgil muttered, before swooping in and kissing Logan with the kind of focus usually reserved for people operating sniper rifles.

Roman’s hand took one of Logan’s again, and Patton was still behind him, furnace-warm and his hair soft as pillow down against Logan’s neck, and Logan did not think of judging eyes or painted words for the rest of the night.

Or really, very many words at all.

* * *

They arrived at Logan’s house in the early morning, approaching on foot this time. Logan could see Ms. Gage’s truck and his parent’s car in the driveway – as well as, strangely, Mrs. Waller’s – but the _first_ thing he saw was his brother sitting in one of the wicker chairs on the back porch and clearly waiting for them.

He gave the other three a very brief but undeniably suspicious look, but it faded almost instantly when Logan rolled his eyes and broke ahead.

“Are you-”

“Don’t be absurd,” Logan muttered fondly. Thomas’s mouth quirked back.

“Mama’s making pancakes,” he said, raising his voice so all four of them could hear.

Logan winced.

“With what?” he asked.

Thomas scrunched his face up, apologetic and just a little uncomfortable.

“Uh, everything,”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Anybody care to tell me what’s bad about pancakes?” said Virgil dryly.

“Mom only makes pancakes when she’s angry,” said Logan, “Because they can’t be made all at once, it gives her something to do with her hands continuously,”

“And the more toppings she makes, the angrier she is,” finished Thomas, “Also your Mom’s here Patton,”

“Not my Pop?” said Patton curiously.

“Nope. Just her,”

“Patty?” came Mrs. Waller’s voice from out he window, “Patty, sugar, is that you?”

Her head came next, poking out the back door.

“Well, what are you all doing standing in the backyard?”

“Coming, Momma,” said Patton, trotting up the steps, and they all followed him in, Virgil bringing up the rear with a distinctly uncomfortable expression on his face.

Logan hung back a little, just so he could take Virgil by the hand and squeeze gently. Virgil’s face didn’t change but his shoulders did relax, just barely.

The kitchen was a little hot and very cramped, but all the windows were open to the early morning air, so it wasn’t too bad. Ms. Gage was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, and Logan’s parents turned toward him as soon as he came through the door.

“Hey, buddy,” said Dad as they wrapped their arms around him. Mom didn’t say anything at first, just kissing him on the temple and squeezing him around the shoulders.

It took him a moment to notice it was because she was giving Virgil a very stern look over Logan’s shoulder, to which Virgil was turning steadily scarlet.

“ _Mom,”_ hissed Logan.

“What?” she said, deceptively innocent.

“Leave him _alone_ , please,”

“Alright,” she said primly.

She leaned back, running her finger on the side of his face.

“How are you feeling?”

Logan looked past her, focusing on the wall.

“I am improved from yesterday,” he said, “I will most likely be able to return to school at the end of the suspension without noticeable difficulty,”

“I didn’t ask how you felt yesterday,” she said, “Or how you’d feel on Tuesday, mister,”

Logan had no idea why he though that was going to work.

“Not… optimal,” he muttered.

“Okay,” she said, “We can work with not optimal. For now, pancakes,”

Patton’s mother had also brought some kind of potato and egg casserole. Ms. Gage, strangely, had brought a pan of cinnamon rolls.

Roman had opened his mouth, obviously moving to joke at her.

“Don’t get too excited, I made ‘em from canned biscuits,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Which made Virgil choke on his glass of orange juice and sputter-

“How the fuck do you _can_ a _biscuit_?”

Unfortunately, the pancakes came with conversation; a conversation Logan would rather do just about anything than have. They all sat, minus Roman and Virgil, who were standing against the counter due to the limited space, as well as the fact that Virgil didn’t like to have his back to the open room, and the kitchen was laid out so that it was near impossible not to while sitting at the table in the center

After just long enough to get everyone a plate – Dad spoke.

“Now,” he said, “We’re going to the school around noon to talk to James. We don’t have to bring you, but do you want to come?”

Logan had a brief flash of Mr. Marks repeating yesterday’s condemnation in front of his parents, and was suddenly not hungry in the slightest.

“That isn’t necessary,”” said Logan, “There is no need for such a fuss,”

Thomas scowled.

“You didn’t _do anything_ ,”

Logan tried to think of something to say, failed, and opted to stay silent.

“The principal owes you an apology, Logan,” said Dad firmly, “He had no right to reprimand you for your relationship. You _haven’t_ done anything wrong, and you certainly haven’t done anything that violated school rules,”

“And he’s _not_ going to do nothing about your locker,” said Mom shortly, “I’ll drag him around by the ear until he talks to Sadie and her parents if I have to,”

“There is no _proof_ that Sadie vandalized my locker,”

“If you say she did it, she did it,” said Virgil.

“I can say it because I _believe_ she did it, that doesn’t actually make it objectively true,”

“Not what I meant,”

“Logan,” said Patton gently, “We _can’t_ just doing nothing. It’s not fair to you,”

Logan sighed, frustrated.

“I do appreciate that you are all so upset on my behalf,” he said, “But to be frank, there is only three grading periods left in the school year, and I would rather not make the situation worse,”

“So what _are_ we going to do?” Roman said in exasperation.

“Easy,” said Virgil, his voice rippling, “I’m going to kill them, obviously,”

The room went very quiet, and the silence lasted long enough that Logan gave his parents a stunned look. Mom had a look on her face that was far closer to ‘awkward’ than ‘horrified.’ Even more shocking, Mrs. Waller hadn’t even stopped drinking her coffee.

“I _don’t_ think we’re going to do that, actually,” Mom said, far too diplomatically for the fact that they were talking about actual homicide.

Virgil raised his eyebrows.

“Because murder is wrong,” she said, gently.

Virgil continued to stare at her.

“Verge,” she said sternly.

“Sadie has hardly done anything that warrants _homicide_ ,” said Logan.

“She made you cry,” said Virgil darkly, and Logan had _no business_ blushing like Virgil had quoted a sonnet at him.

“Verge,” said Dad, “We really can’t-”

“You can’t,” said Virgil, shrugging, “You don’t have to, because I’m right here,”

“I’ve got a brilliant solution to this dilemma,” cut in Ms. Gage, “Genius, really. Outta get a medal for it,”

Mom sighed.

“Yes, May?”

Ms. Gage turned to Logan, and spoke like she was commenting on the weather.

“Logan, do you want Virgil to kill Sadie Wagner?”

“No,” said Logan incredulously.

Virgil stilled, his eyebrows pulling in in confusion.

“I _told_ you that, it is what I’ve been saying _all morning_ ,” said Logan.

“You said you didn’t think she _deserved_ it, not that you didn’t want me to,”

“I said it last _night_ as well,”

You said you didn’t want _Roman_ to do it,” said Virgil, and then seemed to immediately realize he’d said something he shouldn’t have, paling when Ms. Gage’s eyebrows climbed up to her hairline and she turned a pointed expression on Roman.

“And why was _that_ even on the table?”

Roman stabbed a piece of pancake irritably.

“I lost my head, okay, just- just let it go,” he muttered.

“I thought-” Virgil seemed baffled, “So- do you really not want me to do anything?”

Logan gave him an exasperated look.

“I think there is a wide variety of options between ‘nothing’ and ‘murder,’ dear,”

“Follow-up question,” said Ms. Gage, “What _do_ you want to happen to Sadie?”

Logan hesitated.

“No wrong answer, buddy,” said Dad.

Logan picked at the fruit on his plate.

“I just want her to leave me alone,” he said wearily.

Patton laced his fingers in Logan’s free hand under the table.

“Okay,” said Mom, placing her hands on either side of her plate, “We can work with that,”


	3. Chapter 3

All in all, it was a relatively quiet morning, after that. Breakfast was finished, the kitchen was cleaned, Mom and Dad left to go to the school, and Virgil and Patton left to- well.

On the back porch, Patton was wearing a smile that belied the way his hands were trembling where they were pressed to Logan’s back. Logan’s arms were around Patton’s shoulders, holding him to his chest.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Logan quietly.

Patton went up on his toes to kiss Logan on the cheek, nuzzling slightly.

“I know,” he said simply. His tone left no room for a counter-argument.

Logan opened his mouth to argue anyway, but Patton craned his neck and kissed him softly. Logan found himself having difficultly forming words, after that.

Patton traded places with Virgil, who’d been saying goodbye to Roman. Virgil didn’t actually say anything at first, just kissed Logan once on the forehead, and then his temple.

“L?” he said.

“Yes?”

Virgil blew out a short breath.

He reached up and hooked one finger around the chain of Logan’s necklace.

“The ‘intended’ use, is if you need me,” he said, “No qualifiers,”

Logan swallowed.

“Right,” he said, “I’m sorry,”

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Virgil, “Just- please,”

“I understand,” said Logan, nodding, “I can imagine finding out through Elliot was distressing,”

Virgil snorted.

And then after a few more brief words of goodbye, they left.

Logan felt a little too big for his own skin, jittery and unnerved. Mrs. Waller took one look at him when he came back through the kitchen door and tutted.

“Oh,” she muttered, “I can’t give you milk and honey, can I?”

That startled a short laugh out of Logan, and when Mrs. Waller smiled he suspected that had been her exact intention.

“There’s lavender tea in the cupboard,” called Thomas from the living room.

“I can make it myself, Mrs. Waller,” said Logan.

She fixed him with a fondly stern look that was so reminiscent of Patton that he didn’t even considering attempting to argue, making his way to the living room and sitting in the middle of the couch. Roman settled in next to him.

Logan was fond of many flower teas, which was embarrassingly on the nose. Slightly less embarrassing, because Thomas was just… _like that_ , was the fact that his brother had, in fact, known exactly which one Logan wanted at the moment, as he always did.

Mrs. Waller brought him the tea, and Ms. Gage was doing… something, writing in a battered notebook and occasionally muttering to herself. She seemed to be paying no more attention to the conversation around her than she was to the air.

Thomas was in the process of putting a movie in the DVD player, a distraction they were probably all going to welcome, regardless of the movies content, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

Logan moved to get up and answer it, but Thomas abandoned the television to do it himself. On the other side of the door was Mr. Waller, who’s eyes flickered searchingly around the room as he greeted them.

“You missed Patty,” said Mrs. Waller, “He went with Verge,”

She made some rather… intense eye contact with her husband, and some silent communication passed between them. Mr. Waller broke the gaze first, and Logan wondered what that had been about but wasn’t quite brave enough to ask.

“Where did you go?” said Roman curiously.

“Went to talk to the other kids parents,” he said, seeming to shake off whatever strange emotion had overcome him, “We didn’t want them gettin’ in too much trouble, seein’ as Jimmy has his head up his-”

“ _Matt,”_

“Anyway,”

Logan felt a little bad that he’d been rather distracted since he left the school yesterday, and hadn’t considered how much trouble they might have gotten in after he left, Corbin especially, having technically ditched with Thomas and Logan.

“What did they say?” said Thomas.

“Well, Tory took Corbin out for ice cream yesterday,” said Mr. Waller, “So I felt a little stupid for that one,”

“As she damn well should of,” said Ms. Gage.

“Sloane is still grounded though,” he said, ruffling Thomas’s hair. Thomas squawked and batted his hand away, bristling.

“But he didn’t-”

“Bill said he’s grounded for ‘being stupid enough to join a fist fight in front of a teacher,’” said Mr. Waller, “Not for defending Logan, kiddo, ease up,”

Thomas huffed, but he did seem placated.

“And Kai?” Logan said hesitantly

Mr. Waller winced, almost imperceptibly.

“About that,” he said, “Kai is, uh. A little missing, actually,”

* * *

Sadie was having a _very_ good day.

She really couldn’t have predicted exactly how well messing with Sanders was gonna go. Getting him, and his brother, and their weird friends suspended in one fell swoop, without even having to be there? It was like Christmas had come early.

The only thing that could have made it better was getting to see it, but it was a flash in the pan. And it was way less daunting to get at him now that he didn’t have _Waller_ hovering at his shoulder twenty-four seven, wearing that stupid hand print like a badge and just generally being creepy as all hell.

It went a long way to making Sadie feel better about how people, especially the dim-witted underclassmen were starting to… almost _like_ him, or at least not be nearly as freaked out as they should be. Sadie sometimes felt like she was the only person in the school with any fucking _sense_.

If the Sanders had caught a bobcat and decided to keep it as a pet, people would rightfully lose it. But just because the bobcat could _talk_ and _sort-of_ pretend to be a person, they thought it was somehow okay to let it go to _school_.

Idiots. They were all _crazy_.

The bathroom stall door swung shut behind her, and Sadie moved towards the sink. She hummed a little tune, still feeling pleased with herself. Nobody had cleaned off the locker yet either, so Sadie got to walk past it on her way to lunch earlier, which had been _very_ satisfying.

She reached for the knob to turn of the faucet, and something moved suddenly. She jerked her hand back.

“Ew,” she said, looking down at the bug with her nose wrinkled. She looked a little closer, reaching around for her sling bag for a book to smash it.

It was a little spider, about the size of her thumb nail. It was standing perfectly still now that it had climbed up onto the knob. If Sadie didn’t know better, she’d say it was looking at her.

She got the bag off her shoulders and reached for the opening.

Only to yelp and drop it completely.

There was another one of them, the same color and slightly smaller, sitting on top of her bag.

“ _Ew_ ,” she said vehemently. Ugh, that one had been _o_ _n_ her. What was this, an infestation?

She kicked the bag a little, trying to startle it onto the floor so she could step on it. It didn’t move.

But about three more suddenly scuttled out from behind the bag.

Sadie suddenly did not feel so great.

She took one hesitant step backwards, towards the bathroom exit. The faucet, which was still running since she hadn’t turned the knob, suddenly petered off, and she turned to look.

About a half dozen spiders were perched on the sink, and frost was starting to spread over the porcelain. The spiders were all perfectly still. They were _definitely_ looking at her.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

Okay. She could deal with this. There were a lot of them, but they were the size of quarters at the most. And yeah, they were probably magic, but Sadie wasn’t _stupid_.

 _N_ _obody_ in Wickhills was stupid enough not to carry iron on them at all times, and on top of that Sadie’s was in the shape of a horseshoe. She reached in to pull it out of the pocket of her jeans, keeping her eyes on the closest spiders.

She got her fingers around it, and then something tickled her wrist.

She glanced down and started _screaming._

Dozens of them were climbing up the leg of her jeans, two having reached her arm. She shook her hand, trying to dislodge them, and dropped the charm in her desperation.

There were more on the sink, more around her bag – they were starting to come out from under the bathroom stalls, in through the window. Sadie turned on her heel to run from the room and found the door covered.

She backed up toward the wall, and if she been paying attention, she might have noticed that the shadow of the sink was not quite the right shape, and that the shape it _did_ have was very similar to an outstretched hand.

But Sadie was _not_ paying attention, and so she didn’t notice.

All she knew was that the second her foot touched the shadow, something gripped her around the ankle, and then everything went black.

The next girl who came into the totally empty, totally normal looking bathroom took a brief moment to wonder how on Earth the pipes got frozen in early October, shivered, and firmly decided that she really _didn’t want to know._

* * *

“ _Missing?”_ said Mrs. Waller, a little shrill.

“Yup,”

“Missin’ how?” demanded Ms. Gage.

“Wasn’t in his bed this morning,” said Mr. Waller, “I was kinda hoping to ask Verge, but you said he’s already gone?”

“Boys, does your momma have any candles handy?” asked Ms. Gage.

“Uh, I think there’s birthday candles in the drawer right there,” said Thomas gesturing.

“Roman-” said Ms. Gage, but Roman was already across the room and fishing for the candles.

“Got it,” said Roman, “Be right back,”

And then he took the candles… with him into the bathroom.

Logan and Thomas exchanged baffled looks, and Patton’s parents looked equally confused, but Ms. Gage was already barreling forward.

“Did his parents say anything else?”

Mr. Waller looked incredibly dubious, but he seemed to think better of pressing her.

“Well, just that Kai was real upset about something last night, but wouldn’t say what. He was in his room when they went to bed, but they didn’t check on him this morning till about ten, and he doesn’t have his phone.”

Roman exited the bathroom, looking a lot less worried but a lot more perplexed

“That was fast,” said Ms. Gage. Roman shrugged.

“He wasn’t hidden,” said Roman, “He’s fine,”

Mr. and Mrs. Waller looked absolutely bewildered, but Ms. Gage relaxed.

“Where is he?”

“Moving, so hard to tell,” said Roman, “But he seemed _pissed_ ,”

“Language,” said Mrs. Waller sharply. Roman gave her an apologetic look.

“He’s really fine, though,” said Roman, waving one of the birthday candles, “Not a scratch on him, as far as I could tell,”

“If someone would please tell me how birthday candles told you all that, I would very much appreciate it,” said Mrs. Waller in a voice that was somehow both saccharine and irritated.

This launched Ms. Gage into a clinically deadpan explanation of using the brain’s tendency to hallucinate when looking in a dimly lit mirror as a conduit for scrying magic, all of which sounded surprisingly scientific for- well, magic. She had also gone back to her notebook, unconcerned.

Patton’s parents seemed skeptical – or at least, as skeptical as one _can_ be about magic when living in Wickhills, and having Patton for a son – but Roman and Ms. Gage’s sudden total lack of worry for Kai’s safety seemed to convince them.

They called Kai’s parents to reassure them, and texted Logan’s in case they saw him while they were out, and while Logan was comforted by Roman’s assurance that Kai was fine, he couldn’t help but be slightly… anxious.

If Kai hadn’t been kidnapped, he’d probably left of his own accord, and he was apparently angry.

Which begged the question – what, exactly, was he _doing?_

* * *

Sadie woke up in the dirt, looking up at tree branches so dense it could be noon or midnight and she’d be hard-pressed to tell the difference.

It was _freezing_ , like the dead of January rather than October. Her teeth were already chattering when she opened her eyes, and she felt like she was getting stabbed with needles of cold on every exposed bit of skin.

She sat up, and the first thing she saw made her stomach do an entire flip.

There were three people – well, not _people_ , only one person, and Sadie was never really _quite_ sure if Waller counted anyway – sitting in the center, on a large stone.

He was the only one looking at her. On his right was that fae from the parking lot last month, the one who’d stared at her. She’d known the three of them had hooked up with the new Lord of the Forest, but… okay, _maybe_ she shouldn’t have assumed it was just a sex thing. Because he wasn’t even looking at her, but he was _radiating_ rage that made Sadie hyper-aware of the fact that she was completely, painfully mortal.

She’d never seen the other fae, who was taller than Sadie’d be standing even sitting down. _She_ didn’t seem remotely upset. Honestly, Sadie wasn’t sure she even realized Sadie was _there_. She was putting a little braid in Waller’s hair.

“Hi, Sadie,” he said quietly.

“W-what the _fuck is w-wrong with you?”_ She shrieked, still shivering. Waller didn’t seem uncomfortable with the temperature at all, “Y-you fucking _kidnapped_ me!”

None of them responded.

“L-let me go, you _psycho!_ ”

Waller’s mouth wrinkled just a bit, and he still didn’t speak for quite a while – when he did, it wasn’t close to anything Sadie might have thought he was going to say.

“Not yet,” he said tonelessly.

“You can’t keep me _hostage_ , you fucking freak-”

The Spider Prince made a strange, angry, and really fucking _arachnid_ clicking noise, and Sadie’s mouth snapped shut. She scrambled back a little, but it didn’t seem to get her any further away from them.

Waller blew out a puff of air.

“Focus,” said the fae woman, serene, “If you mean to bind but not harm, you cannot speak in anger,”

“ _What_ ,” screeched Sadie, “You are _not_ gonna fucking _compel_ me, you maniac, you’re lucky you haven’t been run out of town already-”

The fae woman hummed, and even though it was fairly quiet Sadie still couldn’t help but cut herself off instantly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hurt her?” she said conversationally, “It would not take long to explain how,”

Sadie was pretty sure she was gonna throw up.

“I’m sure,”

“L-look,” said Sadie, “I get it, you’re pissed ‘cuz I fucked with Logan, but it’s _spray p-paint_ , Patton. You’re being m-melodramatic about _nothing-”_

“You really think this is about the locker?” he said.

“What _else_ would it b-be about?”

“ _Everything_ ,” he said vehemently, “All of it, Sadie, for _years,”_

“Okay, _FINE,_ whatever, I won’t do it again!”

Waller stared at her.

“ _Don’t_ do it again,” he said.

Sadie’d been going to school with Waller for a long time – everybody in town knew at least one person who’d gotten accidentally whammed by his voice. It bordered on a bogeyman, the elephant in the room everyone could describe but nobody wanted to actually acknowledge.

 _Like being strung up, like a puppet_ , some said, _like he’s dragging you around on a lead._

 _An electric shock,_ said others, _cattle prodding you in the direction he wants you to go._

This… didn’t feel like any of that.

He said it, and Sadie just… didn’t actually _want_ to, any more.

“Don’t bother Logan again,” Patton continued.

 _Why would I?_ She thought, a little weirded out. She felt a little dizzy, but it… didn’t really hurt.

“Okay,” she said. Her head felt a little like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Very good, dear Patton, if a little indelicate,” said the pale woman next to him, “You have confused her. But it should hold,”

“How do you feel, Sadie?” said Patton. He seemed worried, but still kind of pissed.

There was a sort of empty space in her head, and _she_ was pissed, because she knew there’d been something there not ten seconds ago, but she knew it the same way she knew approximately what size a t-rex was. Something true, but not really… real.

“Fine,” she snapped, “Can I go home now, you bastard?”

“Sure,”

It hadn’t been Patton that spoke that time.

Besides that weird noise earlier, which hadn’t sounded anything _close_ to human speech, it was the first thing the Spider Prince had said. And his voice was absolutely _frigid._

He stood up, offering Patton a hand – the fae woman followed, and standing next to each other they all barely looked real, black and silver and white and gold, Patton the most human off all of them but still not quite _right_.

“The town is that way,” said the Spider Prince, gesturing behind her.

And then he smiled, and it was the most petrifying thing she’d ever seen.

“You’d better start walking,”

Sadie shivered, and she blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she was completely and utterly alone.

* * *

Roman continued to leave the room every fifteen minutes or so, disappearing into the bathroom with the birthday candles and returning to reassure them that Kai was still fine. It wasn’t really making Logan feel much _better_ , but it was, at least, keeping him from getting _more_ worried.

The movie on the television – which Logan was valiantly ignoring in favor of focusing on Roman’s fingers moving gently through his hair – was abruptly cut off by Mrs. Waller shrieking from the kitchen and the _clatter-slam-crash_ of a dish shattering on the floor.

“Sorry,” came Virgil’s voice, clearly embarrassed, “I should have knocked,”

Thomas paused the movie, and by the time he and Logan and Roman entered the kitchen, Virgil was already handing the now-mended coffee mug back to Mrs. Waller with a sheepish expression.

It was also obvious that Virgil was mistaken about the source of Mrs. Waller’s alarm, because it was far less likely that it was _him_ and more likely that it was the fact he had _White_ with him.

“Hello, Michelle,” she said serenely, “Matty,”

“Hello, White,” said Mrs. Waller, sounding slightly hysterical. Mr. Waller waved, but he didn’t speak – he looked a bit like he’d swallowed his tongue.

“Our dear Patton did very well,” White said, and she either didn’t notice the awkwardness her words brought or she didn’t care, “He did not hurt the girl, even though he wanted to,”

“ _White,_ ” said Virgil sharply.

She fell quiet, cocking her head and humming in confusion.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” she said. She seemed to be talking to Patton’s father.

“You said he did well?” Mrs. Waller cut in. White watched Mr. Waller for another moment, but then she turned to the other woman and nodded.

Mrs. Waller smiled, not forced but… deliberate, and she crossed the room to press a kiss to Patton’s forehead.

“I’m proud of you, honey,” she said softly, “For protecting the people you love,”

Well. Whatever Logan had been expecting Mrs. Waller to say, it wasn’t _that_.

Patton seemed equally startled, and maybe a little shiny-eyed. They’d discussed what Patton was going to do, but this was, as far as Logan knew, the first time Patton’s parent’s had ever described the use of his voice, even indirectly, as something positive.

Patton saw Logan around his mother, and he had an… uncharacteristically panicked look on his face, like he was grasping for the correct response.

Logan, who was painfully familiar with the experience, opened his mouth to change the subject – not ideal, but he was not really equipped to assist others in social situations – but Ms. Gage beat him to it.

“Well, we got one down,” she said.

“Maybe Jimmy’s gonna calm down,” said Mr. Waller, seeming incredibly relieved, “Dot and Larry ain’t back yet, we should wait till after,”

“Oh, Patton ain’t handlin’ Jimmy Marks,” said Ms. Gage.

Patton tilted his head, confused.

“Then… what-?”

Roman walked over to stand by his grandmother. She held up the notebook she’d been writing in, which had some headache-inducing diagrams and words crammed into near every inch of blank space, in handwriting so incomprehensible it bordered on hieroglyphic. The sunlight in the window caught the red in Roman’s hair, making it look less brown and startlingly close to the color of blood. They both smiled, teeth glinting, and the green of their identical eyes suddenly looked a lot less like spring leaves.

“We are,”

* * *

Goodness _gracious_ was Dot cross.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a stature of particularly dim-witted dog with that man,” muttered Larry darkly as they climbed back into the car.

“Oh, I just-!”

Dot made a strangled, frustrated noise, pinching her fingers repeatedly like she could squish Jim Marks’s head between them, and shake him around till he stopped being so _atrocious._

“I know, dear,”

“Why is he even a teacher!” she exclaimed.

“For any number of equally terrible reasons,”

“He’s a miserable, self-important bully,”

“Don’t I know it - I have to see him in staff meetings and I miss half the announcements because I’m too busy wanting to _strangle_ him,”

“Oh, _don’t_ say that in front of Virgil, we’ll never manage to head him off again,” said Dot. Her voice cracked, and Larry sighed, leaning back against the seat.

“Dot,” he said softly.

“It isn’t _fair_ ,” she said. She was being petulant, but it was just her and Larry in the car – he knew her better than anyone. If there was anyone she could be well and truly petty in front of, it was him.

“They’re such good kids,” she said brokenly, “None of them deserve this,”

“We had to talk Virgil out of murder not two hours ago,” Larry said dryly

“And you _just_ said you wanted to strangle Jim,” Dot retorted, “The difference is Virgil is a hormonal adolescent immortal with magic powers and no sense of scale, _”_

“Is he hormonal?” said Larry, “Is that thing for Good Neighbors?”

“ _Logan’s_ hormonal, dear,”

“Oh, right. Dumb question,”

Larry pulled out of the parking lot and Dot sighed again.

“I don’t know what to do, Larry,” she said quietly.

Larry bit his lip.

“Me neither, love,” he said.

“I can’t tell him it won’t happen again,” said Dot, “I can’t even tell him it won’t happen tomorrow,”

“We can tell him they’re _wrong,”_ said Larry, “That we’re on his side,”

“It doesn’t feel like much,”

“It is,” said Larry quietly, “You _know_ it is,”

Dot sniffed, and Larry reached across the console to take her hand. She gave him a sad smile and he squeezed it a little tighter.

The turned a corner, and a spot of color caught Dot’s eyes.

“Is that Kai?” she said curiously.

“There’s only so many short kids with bright blue hair in town, Dot,”

“Don’t be sassy,”

Larry slowed to a stop next to Kai, who looked both angry and panicked. Dot rolled down the window.

“Do you need a ride, Kai?” she asked, “And where’ve you been, everyone’s been worried sick!”

“Uh-”

Kai looked surreptitiously back down the street toward the school, and then back at the car.

“Is, uh, Logan at home?”

Dot was a little taken aback by the non-sequitur, but she recovered fairly quick.

“Yes, he was there when we left,” she said, “But where have _you_ been?”

“Can I come over?” he blurted.

“Kai Atwell, one of my sons can’t lie and you think I can’t tell when someone is avoiding a question?” said Dot sternly, “I’m calling your momma regardless so you might as well tell me now,”

Kai scowled, scuffing his foot on the sidewalk.

He pulled his backpack off, muttering mutinously, before jerking the zipper open and holding it open for Dot to see.

She peered inside, and immediately had to bite the inside of her cheek.

“Oh-”

She did it again, trying very hard not to let her face betray anything.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “His car, I’m guessing?”

Kai nodded, still scowling.

“Well, get in,” said Dot. Kai’s expression turned a little wary.

“The faster you get in, the less likely you get caught,” she deadpanned.

He just looked plain baffled now. Dot raised an insistent eyebrow to the back seat and Kai startled, shaking himself, and climbed into it.

It was only after he was behind her that she relaxed her face. She had no idea how she was going to keep from cackling for the rest of this car ride.

* * *

Logan knew in a sort of… vague way that Roman and Ms. Gage could do magic, more than the simple counter-charms most humans used to deter fae, which really had much more to do with object in question than the human.

And Logan knew what magic looked like, both from a distance watching other fae and up close learning from Virgil.

Or at least, he’d _thought_ he’d known what it looked like.

Where most of the time Virgil and Logan essentially drew the magic from the area around them and shaped it into what they needed, this was decidedly more… _violent_ , for lack of a better term.

He could _almost_ see it, if he looked very close – like heat waves shimmering off of blacktop in the sweltering dead of summer. It was uncomfortably warm for him in Ms. Gage’s living room, and Patton had seemed similarly so.

Virgil, on the other hand, had actually left the room to wait on the porch under threat of dish towel from Ms. Gage, after he’d stubbornly tried to stay in the house in spite of the fact his eyes had gone glassy and unfocused with the heat. Patton had followed, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to look away.

The objects they were using were alternately familiar (plants, mostly), seemingly mundane trash (most notably, a length of frayed black thread with a number of knots and several scraps of paper), as well as some far more alarming things – a dead wasp, for example, and a red liquid from a bottle full of nails and razors that made Logan physically recoil when Roman opened it.

And Logan _itched_ , all over, but under the skin. Not quite the hives-and-sneezing feeling of red berries or daisies, or the blister-burn of salt and iron. It was familiar, but it took him nearly ten minutes of watching them mutter over the various jars and tins to place it.

It was the way Greta Fischer had felt, that aura she’d had when she’d been senseless – not _nearly_ as bad, not even close, but it clearly stemmed from the same source. Like smoke, hot and particulate and a little choking but with no clear source of flame.

It was utterly fascinating.

He’d always assumed Roman and Ms. Gage smelled like smoke because of their fireplace and gas stove – it had never occurred to him the smell was actually coming _from them_.

Roman caught him staring and smiled.

“What?” he teased.

“I do not understand how you keep surprising me,” he said, probably a little too softly.

Roman’s smile turned from teasing to hopelessly fond, but only for a moment before Ms. Gage yanked on his earlobe and glared at Logan.

“You can make cow-eyes at each other all ya want later, stop distractin’ him,”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Logan quickly. Roman just swatted her hand away and rolled his eyes.

All of their collaboration resulted in a glass bottle filled with a murky and particulate-heavy dark red liquid, that somehow exuded the exact malevolence Roman had been wearing on his face the night before, as well as a sort of – Logan would almost describe it as an… _a_ _ftertaste_ of singed mint. He got the feeling that was Ms. Gage.

“May I see?” he asked.

“You absolutely may not,” said Roman, kissing Logan on the cheek as he passed him, heading on the door, “The war water will give you blisters,”

“It’s bottled,” said Logan dubiously.

“He’ll only get ‘em once,” called Ms. Gage from the kitchen.

“Nope,” Roman repeated, popping the p, “No pouting,”

Logan wasn’t pouting. He continued to not pout.

“I promise I’ll talk your ear off all you want when I get back,” Roman said, seemingly unable to resist coming back to kiss Logan again, “I’ll make a game of it – see how quickly I can get you to beg me to shut up about the magical uses of pop can tabs,”

Logan couldn’t actually tell if he was joking.

“Where is he going?” Logan asked Ms. Gage once Roman was gone, and certainly not because he’d been to distracted by the kiss to ask Roman himself before he left.

“Just down the road,” she said, “The train tracks go toward Jimmy’s house. I could do it the fireplace but I don’t want that shit in my house, frankly,”

“Understandable,” said Logan, shuddering a little.

Logan offered to help Ms. Gage clean up, but seeing as a number of the things around the kitchen were actively hazardous to him he wasn’t surprised when she gave him a dry look and shooed him out.

Instead, he joined Virgil and Patton on the porch. Virgil had regained his usual color – which is to say, he was moonlight-pale again instead of flushed feverish pink – and laying on the porch with his head in Patton’s lap. Patton had already done three tiny braids at Virgil’s temple and was working on a fourth, a habit Logan suspected he’d picked up from his godmother.

Patton smiled up at him, though he still looked a little pale for Logan’s taste. Logan folded his legs under him and sat next to them, taking the hand Patton offered and laying the other on Virgil’s arm.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Virgil.

“Fine,” muttered Virgil, rolling his eyes, “I’m not going to melt, love,”

Logan hummed, turning to Patton.

“And you?” he said a little hesitantly.

Patton smiled again, just a touch confused this time.

“Yeah, sweetie, I’m fine,”

Logan didn’t quite know how to ask what he wanted to without potentially upsetting Patton, especially if he really was fine. On the other, if Patton was lying Logan would be… very distressed if he didn’t do. Something.

Luckily – or not, depending on one’s point of view – Patton seemed to suddenly understand what Logan was asking. His smile turned a little brittle.

“I’m really fine,” he said, “Look, I’m talking and everything. You don’t have to worry,”

“I apologize if I am… hovering,” said Logan quietly, “But- I know you’ve never wanted to compel someone deliberately, and I… fear I’ve made you do something detrimental to your mental health,”

Patton’s face scrunched up in a wince.

“That’s, uh-”

Patton cleared his throat.

“That’s not quite… exactly… true,” he said quietly.

Logan must have looked incredibly startled, because Patton winced again.

“That- that night,” said Patton, “I wanted- I wanted to tell the hunt to go away. And-”

His hands was trembling in Logan’s, and Logan squeezed it gently.

“He kept touching Roman,” he said, a little flatly, “And Roman- he looked so scared and I-”

Patton was squeezing Logan’s hand back now, thought it was a less of a squeeze and more of a death grip.

“So, no, sweetie,” said Patton softly, “I have wanted to use it before. This is just the first time I’ve actually _done it_ ,”

Virgil sat up suddenly, turning to them, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the sound of tires in the driveway.

“Roman walked,” said Patton quizzically, trying to crane his neck to see around Virgil.

“It’s my parents,” said Logan, rising to meet them.

But it wasn’t just his parents that climbed out of the car – clamoring out of the backseat, wearing a backpack and scowl, was Kai.

He stalked forward, and Logan took a startled step backwards, which he really should have tried harder to control because the next moment Virgil was hovering at Logan’s shoulder, staring unblinkingly at Kai.

Kai maintained his composure admirably – which, granted, just meant he didn’t immediately run in the other direction – but he did stop his approach. He hesitated, wary, but then he slipped the backpack off and jerked the zipper open.

Several empty plastic bags fluttered out, and the backpack was full of them. Logan stared.

“Apologies, but I don’t understand what you are trying to communicate,” said Logan.

Kai groaned in frustration.

“I put confetti in Mr. Marks air conditioning vents,”

“Those were _all_ confetti?” said Logan, incredulous. There were a significant number of bags.

“Some of them were glitter,”

“You put _glitter_ in his car vents?” said Patton, poking his head around Virgil and looking somewhere between sternly disappointed and deeply impressed.

“Kai,” said Logan, “What if someone saw you? You will only have gotten yourself in more trouble,”

“ _But_ ,” said Kai, “It’s a great temperature right now – he probably doesn’t need his air conditioning. And it’ll be weeks before he needs to turn on his heater. It’s genius,”

“But why would you even risk it?” said Logan.

Kai groaned again, though it was really more of a shriek. He dragged his hands down his face.

“Because- because!”

“That is… not an answer?” said Logan baffled.

“Are you _kidding_ me, I literally brought you a bunch of empty confetti bags and you’re still gonna make me spell this out for you?”

“Are you messing with him?” said Virgil quietly, and when Logan turned to him Virgil looked absolutely baffled. He, at least, seemed to understand what Kai was talking about.

“Wait,” he muttered, “You brought _me_ the bags?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

Kai stomped one foot petulantly on the wood of the porch step.

“Don’t do that, you’’ll hurt yourself,”

“ _That’s why_ ,” shouted Kai, “That _,_ _that_ , you mother-henning idiot, that’s why,”

Logan blinked. Kai threw his hands up in frustration.

“Because you’re my _friend,_ you absolute _jackass_!”

Several seconds of silence passed. Kai was breathing heavy, and Logan’s train of thought seemed to have come to a screeching halt.

“You’re Thomas’s friend,” he said faintly.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna throttle you,” said Kai.

He didn’t continue, crossing his arms and staring. Logan turned the past forty-eight hours over in his mind.

Kai had tried to hide the locker from him; he’d shouted at and then assaulted a teacher. He’d seemed unusually distressed when Logan had stated that Kai didn’t like him, and now he had vandalized a car and risked further disciplinary action for the purpose of – what?

“Are we friends?” Logan muttered.

“Throttle you,” said Kai, “Wring your neck like a nerdy chatterbox chicken,”

He scuffed his foot on the stepping stones.

“But _yes_ , we are,” said Kai, “Shoulda known I’d have to literally spell it out for you, you oblivious-”

“Consider,” said Logan, who felt a little dazed but also vaguely amused, “That you continuously insulting me may have added to my confusion,”

“I’m willing to bet you don’t know you’re friends with Sloane and Corbin either, so your defense is horseshit,”

Logan didn’t respond, because while that statement was a little easier to wrap his head around, it was still an accurate accusation.

“Well,” said Dad, “Now that we’ve got the requisite dramatic showdown out of the way, can someone please tell me what exactly May and Roman are doing to Jim?”

“In all honesty, I have no idea,” said Logan.

Mom sighed.

“Well, in we get,” she said, “Kai, dear, please don’t leave the plastic bags in May’s yard,”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kai muttered.

Logan moved to help him pick up the one’s that had fallen. They were the last one’s to enter the house, and just outside the door, Kai stopped short.

“What?”

Kai wrinkled his nose, and then awkwardly leaned over and punched Logan softly on the arm.

Logan hesitated, and then he tapped his knuckles against Kai’s shoulder as gently as he could manage.

“Mother-hen,” muttered Kai.

“Hot-head,” said Logan back. Kai’s mouth fell open.

“ _Motormouth_ ,”

“Hooligan,”

“ _Hooligan?_ Who are you, my Great Aunt Nancy? _”_

If Kai was surprised or alarmed by therevelation that Ms. Gage and Roman had placed a hex on the principal, he did an admirable job of hiding it.

Or at least, he did an admirable job of hiding the fact that he’d moved a few steps closer to and just behind Logan, and Logan was not going to be the one to point it out.

* * *

Logan didn’t know what he really expected to happen when he went back to school on Tuesday.

But whether it was that nothing would have changed or that he’d be accosted the second he walked in the door, it definitely hadn’t been… this.

People were saying hello to him.

Saying hello, or waving, or even several scattered ‘welcome backs’ - Becca Odell actually inserted herself directly in Logan’s path and smiled at him.

“Heya, Logan, welcome back,” she said, grinning.

“Thank… you-?”

“Where’s your brother?”

Ah – that was a little more understandable.

“Thomas’s suspension was a week rather than three days,” he responded, “He was verbally belligerent with the principal,”

“Oh, I’d have paid money to see that,” said Becca.

“…Right,”

“Well, welcome back, again,” she said, “And, you know I got put in charge of Senior prank this year, right?”

“I did not,”

“Oh,” she said, “Well, I am, and- if you wanna help, just let me know, okay?”

Logan felt a though he’d stepped through some kind of portal into a nonsensical mirror world.

“If I find myself overcome by the desire to invite more faculty retribution on myself, I will be sure to contact you,”

Becca blinked, a little startled.

“I will let you know,” said Logan.

“Oh, great!” she said sunnily, “See you in Pre-Cal!”

Logan stared at her for several moments, shook himself, and continued to his locker.

It was blue – they had at least painted over it. There were no further… benevolent altercations-? As he made his way to first period, which was the first and most daunting hurdle of the day.

First period was AP Chem, and he shared it with _Sadie_.

He’d never gotten around to asking exactly what Patton had said to her – he had no idea how she was going to react to seeing him.

The room was mostly empty, just the two of them and a handful of of other students. She looked up automatically when he entered the room, and Logan tensed.

She saw him, clearly, looked directly at him and her eyebrows pinched slightly in recognition – but then her eyes simply slipped away, turning back down to the book on her desk. It was like she’d barely registered it – she seemed totally indifferent.

Logan’s shoulders relaxed.

 _I just want her to leave me alone_.

Logan had never experienced an AP Chem lesson with quite so little anxiety. He was looking forward to more of them.

* * *

_One month later_

James knew that Sanders child had _something_ to do with all of this.

The problem was, he couldn’t actually give a student detention for ‘inducing bad luck.’

And bad luck it was.

He’d lost count of the number of times dinner had caught fire on the stove, every door in the house squeaked no matter how many times he oiled them, the roof was leaking in three separate places and they somehow had a _wasp_ infestation in November, which he could not locate for the life of him.

There was a late autumn storm at the end of October, and the tree in the backyard had dropped a third of the branches, and the biggest one had crashed straight through part of the roof.

Angela was so frazzled she hardly came home except to sleep, and James honestly couldn’t blame his wife. He spent most of his own time in his office at the school.

But that was only what was happening to the _house._

James’s hair was starting to fall out, and he’d developed what he’d _thought_ was a run-of-the-mill hay fever cough but had yet to abate, as well as some kind of rash on his hands that Dr. Sherwood had been utterly baffled by.

He was not having a very good month.

And both the Sanders’ children had been on their best behavior – he couldn’t punish them for whatever magic they’d done, and he’d yet to find anything else to substitute it for.

Late in the evening, he left, muttering darkly. He climbed into his car, dreading going home but unable to justify staying any longer.

The sun was past the horizon, and the November chill was setting in. James leaned over, clicking on the heater.

A spray of color belched it’s way out of all the vents, spewing over the front seat and his face.

He spit, gagging on the grit of glitter on his tongue and staring at the confetti sticking to every part of his shirt and all of his papers.

“Why do I even keep this job,” he grumbled.

It was a good question, and one many people much smarter than James Marks had also asked. Hopefully, he’ll eventually realize the answer is “I shouldn’t.”

But, y’know. Baby steps.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm also [ tulispcomeinallsortsofcolors ](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) over on tumblr!


End file.
